“No thanks; unlike you and your vampire brethren, we humans are sensitive to anthrax.”
He laughs, and an unwilling thrill shoots up my spine at the sight of his wide smile and the vertical lines on either side—like his face has to make special accommodations for it. I quickly look away and start walking.
“You know, we vampires aren’t as heartless as you’d like to think.”
“Right. So, you just think the institution of marriage is pointless, romance is dead, and kittens should be drowned on principle.”
“On the contrary, marriage has excellent tax benefits for those willing to risk it, I think romance is entirely possible and maybe even inevitable with the right person, and I happen to be the indentured servant of my feline overlord, Taco.”
I can’t help the laugh that skips out of me. “You have a cat named Taco?”
“She looks appealing but gives me heartburn. It’s the perfect name for her.”
“I’m more shocked that you have a cat, period.”
“Do I not strike you as a cat person?”
I frown, considering. “Actually, you’re sort of the quintessential cat person. Moody, unaffectionate, snobby…”
“Intelligent, good-looking, independent,” he continues to list, pushing his disheveled hair back from his forehead. We round a corner, and I spot my car at last. But despite the rain, I find myself wanting to stay.
“This is me,” I say, pointing at my Camry with the sandwich I’m still carrying.
Jude frowns at the maroon eyesore parked in front of us. “Your tires are bald,” he notes.
I sigh. “Yeah, well, he’s still got great stamina.”
Jude shakes his head and glances at the sky again. “You really don’t have a place to stay for the night in Providence?”
“I do have a few people I could call, but you’re missing the point. Iwantto go home and sleep in my own bed.”
He bites down on his bottom lip and glances at the small parkahead of us. “Would you be willing to wait out the rain with me? If it gets worse, you stay and call a friend. If it dies out, you go?”
I look down at my heels and then up at the ominous clouds. I should just get on the road, but for reasons that havenothingto do with the bite marks in his lip, I say, “Fine. But I don’t want to get soaked.”
The smile he gives me is wolfish as he opens a compact black umbrella I didn’t notice he was carrying. “And here I thought wedding planners were supposed to be prepared for anything.”
“Anything butyou,” I shoot back, but somehow, it feels less like a retort and more like a confession. And based on his smug smile as he tugs me beneath the umbrella, he knows it.
11JUDE
Six Weeks Before the Wedding
Umbrellas are available in all kinds of sizes—some for couples, some for kids, and some for chronic loners like myself. I’m sure there are depressing statistics on what sells best somewhere, but right now, none of it matters because Gracie has transformed my lonely, party-of-one umbrella into an undersize shelter for two.
I exhale as we cross the street to the park. I need to get a handle on myself. I know I have a habit of being overprotective of the people I care for. In my one-night-only relationships, those tendencies manifest in ways that my therapist has a lot to say about. But with Gracie… it feels different. She’s pulled me into her orbit, and now I spend all my time wondering if she’s gone grocery shopping, or if she’s sewing something new, or if she’s busy plotting my demise.
“So, now that I know you’re an animal lover who believes romance is ‘inevitable’ under the right conditions,” she says as raindrops begin to fall more heavily around us, “I think it would be best if you just give up pretending you’re not a secret cinnamon roll and agree to renovate Larkwood’s greenhouse as a new wedding reception area.”
I can’t stop my incredulous smile as I look at her. “I’m sorry—a secretwhat?”
Her dark eyes flick to mine, and I wish for the millionth time that I didn’t find herquiteso beautiful. The rain begins to fall fast and hard outside our small bubble of protection, and she moves closer to me.
“A secret cinnamon roll,” she repeats. “It’s basically a way of describing a fictional character who seems prickly on the outside but is secretly soft and gooey on the inside.”
“Wow. And here I was, thinking those were just my internal organs.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Jude. I’m sure you’ve got a feeling or two rattling around in there.”
